


The Unbroken Princess

by wingsofthenight



Series: Voices Unheard [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dorne, Gen, Pre-Canon, shocking for me i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofthenight/pseuds/wingsofthenight
Summary: To her people's joy, Deria returns to Sunspear after treating with the dragon king Unbowed, Unbent, and Unbroken.
Series: Voices Unheard [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891072
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Unbroken Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [dreamingoflibraries](http://dreamingoflibraries.tumblr.com/) on tumblr:
> 
> "So I saw your post asking for prompts. One of the things I'd love to see is an exploration of Princess Deria Martell's thoughts either on her way to the peace summit with Aegon the Conqueror, at the meeting, or on her return to Dorne. There's almost no exploration of the Dornish during that time period in fanfic which is a crying shame."
> 
> It really is a shame there's not more content about this period. A lot of people like the Targs though, and they're kind of the villains in Dornish history though, so that might be why.

Every single time Deria returned to Sunspear she felt like crying.

Gone were the days of her childhood when her home was full of laughter. Gone were the days she ran around with her siblings, taking in the sights and speaking with people free of worries. Gone were the days she and Leonel had walked the path to the sea while they were courting and wished to learn more about each other before they wed.

Now there were long faces and silent people. No one had been spared the grief that those damned to the Seven Hells dragons had brought when they came to their lands and assumed they had the right to rule over them.

The Valyrians had not changed in the past seven hundred years. Nor had they learned anything from Princess Nymeria’s flight to Dorne.

House Martell’s words had come to be after Dorne had been unified, after all.

After Prince Mors’ death, Yorick Yronwood had told The Princess that he looked forward to seeing her and her people being forced to bow to him and having their spirits broken.

Princess Nymeria had smiled at that and wished him luck with accomplishing that goal of his.

Two years later, Yronwood was dragged to her camp and forced to kneel at her feet, and there announced that House Martell’s words would be Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. She had even thanked Yronwood for giving her the idea.

Deria was relieved she had been able to keep to her ancestor’s hopes. She would never have forgiven herself had she been the one to lose Dorne.

Once they had come close to Sunspear, she had ordered the orange sails painted with the Martells’ sigil raised. That had been something both her father and Leonel had begged her to do, to give them some sign that her quest had been successful. Both of them had wished to come in her place, but she had refused. The past years had worn on the both of them far too much. Not only that, but she had thought it likely that they would find a woman far less threatening than a man.

And she had been right. She had been allowed in to see that Pretender, and the way his face had drained of what little color it had when he read the words the Prince of Dorne’s letter bore was a memory she would treasure for the rest of her life.

(Privately, she wished that they had simply gone through with the threats the letter had held. Her father had admitted that was his wish too, but told her that they would likely still have to contend with those beasts, and who knows what a riderless dragon would do.)

Their people had obviously seen her ship coming, for they had gathered at the port, waiting with baited breath to find out the results of her journey.

When Deria walked down the gangplank, standing tall and unharmed with the tiara her much missed grandmother had given her shining in her hair, a hush seemed to fall for a brief second before a cheer echoed through the streets.

Her people were crying out their joy and embracing each other, men and women both not at all ashamed of the tears falling, for they knew that if their princess came back in this state it meant that her mission had been accomplished, that the years of war were finally at an end- and at an end that did not require spitting on everything their Rhoynar ancestors had fought for.

Deria’s heart filled with warmth at seeing their joy, but a large part of her attention was on the two men waiting for her in front of the crowd.

Leonel, despite his horrible limp brought about by an injury he had taken in the fighting, sped towards her and embraced her, crying into her shoulder. For a brief second, she let herself all but melt into his arms, letting her relief to be home sweep over her.

She had no idea how long they stood there, but eventually they let go of each other and Deria strode towards the other man waiting for her.

Prince Nymor Nymeros Martell looked even more drawn than before she had left and a healer stood worryingly close to him, but her father still proudly stood in front of her, tears of relief and pride shining in his eyes.

“My Prince, I have brought you what you have wished for: The end to this war, one where Dorne remains Unbowed, Unbent, and Unbroken,” Deria said in a clear, carrying voice as she handed him a letter. “We will rebuild, and we will remind that Pretender in the north that we are free and will never be conquered.”

As their people cheered once again, her father smiled at her, taking the letter and reaching over to cup her cheek. “My bright sun,” he said softly, using the nickname he had given her when she was only a little child, “you have done well. You are a true Princess of Dorne. You will rebuild Dorne, and they will see that our words are true.”

Deria couldn’t stop a couple tears from escaping. “I will do my best to live up to your hopes.”

“It is not my hope, Deria. It is my knowledge. I know you will bring dawn back to Dorne after this treacherous night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Deria Nymeros Martell was the daughter of Prince Nymor and granddaughter of Princess Meria. She inherited Dorne some time between 13 AC and 23 AC.
> 
> We actually don't know if she was married at all, but I chose to give her husband a name and a short appearance. They actually have children and a grandchild on the way even if I haven't mentioned them; by my estimates, Deria was probably at least 40 years old at this point.
> 
> Nymor is actually in his 70s at this point, and the past years of war have likely been weighing on him. He's probably only got another couple of years at this point.
> 
> Deria actually hosted both Aegon and his son Aenys in Sunspear in 23 AC to celebrate ten years of peace. I like to imagine that a lot of it was also to show him that Dorne was still there and they had rebuilt great parts of what he had destroyed, though sadly, even 300 years later they're still not all the way back to where they were. A lot of that probably has to do with Daeron I deciding to slaughter Dornish people in droves though, so there is that.
> 
> Feel free to send me more prompts on sunontherhoyne.tumblr.com!


End file.
